


feelin' 22

by sky_reid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Banter, Beard Burn, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Domestic, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Laughter During Sex, M/M, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, happy birthday harry!!!!, i think this counts as banter, i'm so sorry about all the frankly appallingly bad puns, if it doesn't i'm sorry for misleading you, incredibly vanilla all things considered, is that a tag, oh look a perf description, oh right and harry calls louis daddy once but as a joke, some light dirty talk, there's a tag for this good god, this is so cheesy i want to die, why is this so bloody long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5878267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's harry's birthday and what he's feeling isn't exactly 22, but it'll do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feelin' 22

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i wrote the beginning of this before harry's tweet nobody sue me alright
> 
> also there's like the vaguest undercurrent and implication of d/s and harry's held down and partially immobilised in the beginning (not roughly though, it's mostly just the positioning), so if you're especially sensitive to that yanno tread carefully
> 
> the thing to take away from this is that i should never write vanilla sex

“Happy birthday.”

Harry smiles into the pillow. He’s yet to open his eyes, properly wake up for the first time as a 22-year-old, and already he knows this is gonna be his year. He squeezes Louis’ hand where their fingers are tangled by his head. “Already said that last night,” he mumbles, thinking back to the alarm that went off on his phone at midnight, blaring Taylor Swift’s _22_ and making them both collapse into a fit of giggles while Louis’ head was still buried between his thighs and how Louis kissed all the way up his chest to bite a bruise into his neck and breathe a _happy birthday, love_ in his ear.

Louis kisses his shoulder. “Still have twenty times to say it today."

“Gonna keep doing that when you have to say it ninety times too?” Harry teases as he wiggles around a bit, trying to dislodge Louis from his back.

“Stick around and find out,” Louis replies, pressing Harry down into the bed with his hips and tightening his hold on Harry's waist. His cock is half-hard where it's nestled between Harry's thighs and his hair tickles over the back of Harry's neck when he kisses at the pronounced knob of his spine.

Harry giggles into the pillow. “That’s the plan, innit?” He squirms a bit again, but finds that he's actually pinned down quite effectively. A shiver runs down his spine when he realises that the best he can do without actively trying to get up is grind down into the bed. His cock twitches as it starts to fill up. Louis bites gently at the side of his neck. The skin is sensitive, already bruised. Harry moans, tilts his head sideways to give Louis better access. He can tell it's light outside even with his eyes closed, feel the warmth of the sun on his face and the light breeze on his skin. He bites his bottom lip and doesn't open his eyes just yet.

“Feelin’ 22 yet?” Louis asks, rolling his hips; his fingers sink into Harry's side almost painfully and his cock slips between Harry's arsecheeks, hard enough now that Harry's mouth waters and his hole clenches instinctively.

He snorts, reaction reasonably delayed by his current state, he feels. "You're not  _that_ big, babe." Before Louis gets to do more than groan, he adds, "It's my birthday, you have to laugh at my jokes. I don't make the rules."

Louis rests his forehead on the back of Harry's neck, the huff of breath he lets out ghosting over Harry's spine and making him break out in gooseflesh. "I think you just killed the mood."

Harry tenses up the muscles in his thighs and arse. "Your cock seems to disagree," he informs. His voice sounds a bit strained from how he tries to hold back the grin that's threatening to take over his face.

Louis lets go of his hand to poke a finger into his cheek, deepening the dimple that appears there. "You're not nearly as funny as you seem to think."

Harry just shrugs and turns his head back into the pillow as he stretches his arms out above his head. His toes curl and he muffles a weird mewling sound into the bedding when his shoulders crack. His pillow is too warm, slightly damp and smells of a weird mixture of clean sweat and weed. Louis' hand cradles the back of his head, fingers tangling in his long hair and tugging a little at the matted curls. Harry hums under his breath. "Fuck me," he mumbles, rolling his hips back against Louis'. He feels wetness smearing over his tailbone where Louis' cockhead drags over his skin. His cock twitches, pressed uncomfortably down between his legs.

Louis' hand trails up his side, fingers slotting in the dips of his ribs high up under his armpit. "How do you want it?" he asks, his breath ghosting over the shell of Harry's ear, quickly followed by the tip of his tongue. Harry shivers at the thrill of arousal that zings down his spine.

"Wanna see you," he replies, not even needing to think about it. There'll be time later for celebration and partying, to be wild and loud and to have fun, but that's not right now; right now all he wants is to feel Louis close, have him all to himself for a while.

"Alright," Louis agrees. He gets up on his hands and knees, hovering close enough that Harry can still feel his body heat. He presses a gentle kiss between Harry's shoulderblades, making a surprised laughter bubble out of Harry.

"Tickles," he explains, words muffled by how his face is pressed into his own bicep.

Louis lifts off to straddle him properly and pinches his hip. "Not the word you used last night."

"That's not where you kissed me last night."

"Hmm, true," Louis allows. His hands come up to Harry's shoulders, thumbs parting the long strands of hair that tumble down his neck and pushing them aside. He works out some of the tension that Harry always carries there, kneads at the knots right by his spine and works gently all the way down to the dimples just above his arse. Harry melts into the bed and sighs in pleasure when Louis rubs his back, makes his way up to his neck and then back down again a few more times before finally cupping his arse and giving it a rough squeeze. He grinds down into the bed and hisses at the uncomfortable angle his cock is trapped in. When he tries to lift up though, Louis just sinks his fingers in and pushes him down. He holds Harry's arsecheeks apart, thumbs brushing either side of his hole. "Did more than kiss you, didn't I?" he asks, smug and teasing. "You're all red down here."

Harry grunts in response and grabs onto the pillow, his hips bucking almost uncontrollably forward in spite of what his brain is telling him about how that feels. He's fully hard by now, cock wet at the head already and balls squished between his thighs, and the friction feels good despite the awkward position. He can feel the back of his neck starting to itch, his hairline breaking out in sweat.

Louis lets go of his arse with one hands and runs a finger down between his cheeks, all the way from the dip of his spine to the seam of his balls. The touch is light, teasing, but it makes Harry gasp. He feels sensitive, burning hot and raw from Louis' beard. If he rubbed his thighs together, Harry thinks he'd be able to feel the heat there as well.

"Does it hurt?" Louis asks, moving his finger back up and letting the blunt nail scrape lightly over the dry skin. Harry chokes a bit when it catches on his hole and nods quickly into the pillow. "Feel good?" Louis checks. Harry just whines and pushes his arse up into Louis' hands. "It looks good. Always looks good when I mark you up," Louis adds casually, circling his hole with a little more intent. He pulls it open a bit with two fingers before prodding at it with his thumb. It burns, but it's not exactly painful, the feeling muted when Harry's burning all over there. Still, he clenches up on instinct before forcing himself to relax. He tries to spread his legs, but Louis' thighs are clamped tightly around his, not letting him budge an inch. Louis spreads him wide open with his thumbs and bends over to spit on his hole, then smears the wetness around by bringing his arsecheeks together and rubbing them against each other. It burns surprisingly a lot and Harry can't quite help how his cock twitches at that even as he laughs.

"You know my arse is not a pair of tits, right?"

"Christ, H, even I know better than to play with tits like that," Louis replies, but he does let go of Harry's arse after giving it a little pat. "Hand me the lube, will you?"

"Yes, Daddy," Harry replies cheekily, earning himself a proper slap on the arse this time. He pats the bed around himself and under the pillows. They'd left the lube in there somewhere last night, he's sure of it, but there's a reason why they always keep a spare bottle or two in the bathroom; they've probably lost more of those than of keys and wallets combined.

"Might be easier if you open your eyes and actually  _look_."

Harry gives an exaggeratedly triumphant shout when his fingers wrap around the slightly sticky plastic bottle not even a whole second later. "Bite me," he replies, reaching back and handing it over to Louis. He yelps when he feels Louis' teeth actually sinking harshly into the soft flesh above his hip. "I didn't mean that literally," he grumbles while he rearranges himself with his arms folded under his head and his face tilted to the side, turned towards where the balcony is open to let in the fresh air. After how long he's had his head buried in the pillow the room feels chilly and smells vaguely of grass, the strong scent from early that morning only left in traces.

Louis licks over the reddened indents his teeth left and kisses the mark. He nuzzles into the sensitive skin, rubbing his face over it deliberately until Harry pushes him gently away, itchy and burning from Louis' beard. "Just fulfilling the birthday boy's wishes," Louis says, a smug smirk almost audible in his voice.

"What happened to his wish to get fucked?" Harry complains over the click of the bottle and the squirt of lube. He wiggles his bum, hoping to entice Louis to hurry up. He can feel the wetness between his cheeks and on his thighs where the head of his cock is drooling precome, the subtle itch of beardburn over his skin, the pressure at the base of his cock, the tickle of sweat breaking out over his back. He fluffs the pillow up and folds it under his head for something to do while he listens to Louis slick his fingers; with his head elevated higher his back arches, joints popping and muscles stretching pleasantly 

Louis spreads him with one hand, circles his hole with two fingers wet from cold lube that feels almost soothing. "Patience you must have, my young padawan," he says in his best Yoda voice as he starts pushing his fingers inside. Harry barely feels them breach him because he bursts into laughter; he hides his face in his hands while his whole body shakes. He can hear Louis giggling above him.

"I knew that  _Star Wars_ marathon was a bad idea, fuck me," he mumbles, words interspersed with little hiccups and titters.

Louis twists his fingers inside him, pulls them almost all the way out and shoves them roughly back inside. "Kind of already am," he says. Harry wishes he were strong enough to stop the little giggle that bubbles up in his chest, then turns into a long, drawn-out moan when Louis continues to finger him with slow but deep thrusts. "You're _supposed_ to laugh," Louis informs him.

"'s _my_ birthday, not yours. You don't get a pass on the bad jokes," Harry grunts, chewing on his lower lip when Louis scissors his fingers while they're almost out and twists them to stretch his rim.

"Oi! You've made that joke at least a dozen times.  _This year_."

Harry has something to say to that but then Louis curls his fingers just right and he forgets everything, shuddering almost violently at the sudden, sharp pleasure that courses through him. He grinds down into the bed, then changes his mind and pushes back on Louis' fingers. Louis' hand comes up to his lower back. Louis doesn't push him down the way he expects though; his fingers slow, then still, only the tips of them still left inside.

"Go ahead, fuck yourself on my fingers. I know you want to," he says, pointedly curling his fingers so they tug on Harry's rim. Harry rolls his hips a few times before he manages to find a comfortable rhythm. He doesn't bother with looking for the right angle, doesn't plan to come just from Louis' fingers or even ride them for very long; they've been making up for time spent apart, fucking every opportunity they've had, Harry's honestly surprised he can still walk properly so he certainly doesn't need much prep. He's beginning to sweat quite a bit now, wetness pooling in the dip of his spine where Louis' hand rests. Louis traces the dimples there with his thumb before running his hand all the way up Harry's back and over the expanse of his shoulders. He lets his fingers scrape lightly over the smooth skin on the way down.

Harry shoves back onto his fingers, thighs tensing with the effort to hold him up. He sighs in relief when the pressure on the base of his cock eases and the head of it drags over the sheets as it springs up and slaps lightly against his belly, leaving a wet smear on it. He doesn't know how long he keeps going, gets a bit lost in the steady in-and-out of taking Louis' fingers at his own pace, but he stops when he feels his thighs are shaking too badly for him to keep going. "'m ready," he slurs. He feels a third finger tracing his rim and clenches down on the two already inside. "Lou, c'mon," he whines.

"Alright," Louis agrees, giving him a few more quick, hard thrusts, the last of which ends with a jab at his prostate, before pulling his fingers out and wiping his hand on the sheets. He pats Harry's bum affectionately and kneels up to give him room to move. "Turn over."

When Harry opens his eyes the first thing he sees is the blurry outline of Louis' curvy figure. He has to blink a few times to get used to the light and rub at his eyes to clear them. By then Louis' already leaning over him, hands resting on Harry's shoulders. His eyes are bright, his nipples perked up and his cock hard and flushed where it stands up between his legs. His hair is a wild mess around his face; the sunlight coming from behind him filters through it, making it look like a halo. Harry rolls his eyes at himself. His hands come up to rest on Louis' waist like it's second nature.

Louis grins and bumps their noses together before sealing their lips in a kiss. He kisses slowly, lips gentle on Harry's, easily yielding under Harry's tongue. He rests a hand on the side of Harry's neck, presses his thumb into a lovebite he left there last night, but keeps their bodies otherwise frustratingly apart. He tastes refreshingly of mint. He suckles on Harry's bottom lip before pulling back. "Hey," he says slowly.

"You brushed your teeth," Harry blurts before he's even opened his eyes again. Louis' beard tickles his cheek as Louis kisses over it, heading for the spot where Harry already has a small cluster of fresh purple bruises.

"I did," he replies, moving his hand down so it curls around Harry's throat and kissing the spot under the hinge of Harry's jaw before sinking his teeth into it.

Harry arches off the bed with a moan and tilts his head a little for easier access. Louis' other hand sinks into his hair, fingers tangling in the messy strands and tugging a little. "Feel like a proper tit now," Harry says, breathless from how Louis sucks hard on his neck for a second, then kisses the wet spot he left.

"Harry," Louis says in a tone that's as blatantly fond as it is amused. When Harry opens his eyes he finds Louis looking at him with a crooked little half-smile. "We've been together five years and I've kissed you when you tasted of come and arse. I hardly think a little morning breath is gonna put me off."

"Yeah, but like--"

"Besides, I only bothered because it's your birthday."

Harry snorts. "Yeah, alright. That I believe."

"Are you calling me lazy, Styles?" Louis asks, supporting himself on Harry's chest and finally settling down on top of him, his arse resting on Harry's thighs and cock rubbing against Harry's where they line up on Harry's belly. Harry's hands fall down to grab at Louis' hips; he bucks up, ruts deliberately against Louis making them both moan. He glances down at his ringed hand to where the fingers are making slight indents in Louis' skin. He pouts. Louis just laughs at him. "Gonna be just Styles for a little while yet, love, deal with it," he says, but he cups Harry's face in his hands and kisses the pout from his lips. "Soon," he promises, the way he has countless times over the years. This time though Harry can taste the truth of it.

He nips at Louis' chin. "Gonna fuck me before I turn 23?"

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs. He pats Harry's cheek gently before kneeling up and crawling backwards. "Watch where your giraffe legs are going," he warns when Harry nearly knees him in the balls while extracting his legs. He rests his feet on Louis' thighs, legs bent at the knees and spread out, his whole body on display for Louis to see. He smirks when Louis' eyes slowly trail all the way down to his toes and back up. "Smug is not a good look on you," Louis says, though the fond smile kind of ruins the effect.

Harry grins. "Liar." He holds his legs behind the knees and pulls them up toward his chest so Louis can come closer. He leans over, one hand on the back of Harry's thigh, the other holding the base of his cock and lining it up. He kisses Harry on the lips, not wasting any time before licking into his mouth while he guides himself inside. Harry breaks the kiss with a moan when Louis bottoms out, letting his legs fall and hooking them over Louis' thighs while his hands come up to cradle Louis' face instead. He presses their foreheads together and watches Louis' long lashes flutter when he clenches down and relaxes a few times.

" _God_ ," Louis whispers, the breath of it warm on Harry's spit-slick lips.

Harry giggles a bit before he can even get the joke out, feeling a bit silly and drunk on the warmth in his chest and the strange feeling of relief that always floods through him when he takes Louis all the way inside. "Harry's fine, babe," he manages before breaking down in a fit of laughter. Louis groans, his hands coming up to Harry's waist and his head falling forward into the crook of Harry's shoulder.

"That joke is older than you," he says. His hands feel small on Harry's waist, but their grip is tight and steady; he knees up on the bed, pushing Harry's legs wider apart and shoving his cock deeper inside.

"So are you," Harry replies, too distracted to think of anything else to say when Louis starts grinding deeper into his arse. He wraps one arm around Louis' neck, holds him close, and puts his other hand low on Louis' back, pressing him down a bit. Louis's skin is warm, sun-kissed, damp with sweat; his belly brushes over the underside of Harry's cock with every roll of his hips.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Yeah, well, I'm a bit preoccupied."

"Dick so good you forget your name?" Louis sing-songs. Harry smacks him over the head, then leaves his hand there, tangling his fingers in Louis' hair and tilting his face up for a kiss. He moans into Louis' mouth when Louis pulls out almost all the way and thrusts back inside so hard Harry ends up rocked up the bed. "Fuck, H," he mumbles, breathing hotly into Harry's mouth.

"Yeah, fuck H," Harry agrees. His lips brush over Louis' beard as they move to shape out the words and he shivers at the prickle and scratch. He licks at Louis' mouth, meets Louis' tongue when Louis responds but doesn't bother with any finesse or with a proper kiss. He slips his hand down, grabs at Louis' arse so he can feel the flex of muscles there as Louis fucks him. He lets his eyes slip shut, focuses more on what he can feel, the heat building between them, the all too light brush of Louis' skin over his cock, the stretch and pressure of Louis' cock moving slowly in and out of him. He's distantly aware of the hum of wind and leaves outside, of a car honking somewhere down the street, but it's all just background noise compared to the huff of their harsh breaths and their mingled moans. He squeezes Louis' arse and tries to bring him in closer, deeper, gasping and pulling on Louis' hair when the slight shift changes the angle just right.

Louis brings one hand up to the headboard for better leverage. He's still moving slowly, pulling out until only the head is left inside and fucking in deep; he ends each long stroke with a quick roll of his hips that sends his cock brushing over Harry's prostate just right. He brings his other hand down to Harry's arse, lifts it up off the bed and folds Harry's body to his liking so he can get in even deeper. Harry's hand slips over his sweaty skin, fingers sinking in between Louis' arsecheeks, rubbing over Louis' crack, zeroing in on the tight rim of his hole.

"Lube's on your right if you want," Louis says, unfazed by Harry's touches aside from the little tremble in his voice when Harry prods at him with more intent. Harry considers it for a moment, but he's not gonna last long enough to really enjoy feeling Louis ride his arse and fingers at the same time, so he circles Louis' hole once more and dips the tip of one finger in just for the slight buck of Louis' hips at the sensation, before moving his hand back up Louis' back. He brings his legs up around Louis' waist, crosses them at the ankles at the small of Louis' back and holds onto his his neck and shoulder, wrapped around Louis and bringing him as close as he can. He doesn't have a lot of leverage or space to move, but he doesn't need to; Louis plays him like an instrument, knows exactly what to do to make him moan. He bites at Harry's bottom lip before kissing down over his jawline and latching onto his neck, biting and licking at the spots that are already tender from his teeth. He starts shortening his thrusts, stays buried deep inside and pulls out less so he can fuck Harry faster, harder, enough that Harry can feel and hear the obscene sound of skin smacking together when Louis' balls slap against his arse, yet not enough to burst the intimate sort of bubble they've built. Harry holds on tighter to Louis' shoulders, sinks his nails into Louis' back at the mounting pressure in his belly. He can feel Louis drooling against his neck, spit mixing with sweat. He tugs on Louis' hair with every random brush of Louis' cock against his prostate.

He arches off the bed as best as he can, rolling his hips to meet Louis' thrusts and rub off on Louis' belly. Louis is not aiming for his spot and doesn't even try to get a hand between them, but Harry doesn't need it; sometimes he thinks sex with Louis is always good because it's good  _in his head_ , that he'd enjoy it even if it were objectively the laziest, worst sex in the world.

He feels Louis' fingers tracing his stretched rim, a gentle pressure coupled with a few quiet moans Louis muffles in his neck. He almost doesn't even notice that he comes at that, cock spurting over his belly and continuing to drool thickly as though Louis is literally fucking it out of him. It's neither sudden nor violent the way the pleasure washes over him in waves, making his toes curl and his arse tighten around Louis. He holds on and keeps grinding on Louis' cock, riding out his orgasm and prolonging it. It's not about coming though, not right now, it's about feeling close to Louis, about how they fit together. Louis doesn't falter, fucking him through it and even speeding up. He brings his hand down from the headboard, buries his fingers in Harry's hair and pulls on it rhythmically, making little sighs and grunts fall from Harry's lips.

As if he can read Harry's thoughts, he mumbles, "Feel so good, love, you  _always_ feel so good."

Harry moans quietly, inexplicably affected by the words. He scratches down Louis' back and grips his hip, guiding him to move faster. "Yeah, babe, fuck, keep going," he whispers, turning his head so he's breathing the words straight into Louis' ear. "Want you to come inside me, come on, wanna feel it," he says.

Louis' hips stutter against him. He only lasts a few more strokes before he fucks in as deep as he can and stays there; Harry whimpers when he feels the wetness filling him, milks Louis for all he can until they're both just lying there, breathing hard against each other.

"Fuck," Louis pants, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and hugging him tightly. " _Fuck_ , I love you."

Harry presses a smiling kiss to his temple. "You too," he replies. He nuzzles into the side of Louis' face, waits for Louis to catch his breath and stop shaking before he asks, "What time is it even?"

Louis kisses his neck. "I don't know. Not that early though," he replies. His lips shape out the words against Harry's skin and the scratching of his beard makes Harry shiver a little. His cock twitches against his belly and he has to consciously stop himself from clenching around Louis' softening cock still buried in his arse.

"You're supposed to say _time for another round_ ," he says wistfully.

Louis lifts himself up, arms bulging as he supports all of his weight on them. "You're serious!" he says in a high-pitched voice. His nose is all scrunched up and he's frowning and smiling at the same time and Harry's never seen anyone cuter in his entire life. He pecks Louis on the lips and grins at him. "I'm _literally_ still inside you," Louis informs him, as if Harry could've somehow forgotten that. He shrugs in response. His cock is filling up again and he reaches a hand down between their bodies to gather some come from his belly; he wraps his fingers around his cock and gives it a few tight strokes, hissing at the sensitivity as he tugs himself back to full hardness. "Fucking hell," Louis murmurs under his breath. He gets up on his knees, presses two fingers down behind Harry's balls and runs them down to where Harry's still stretched around him. "How about I eat you out instead?" he suggests, pulling out and immediately covering Harry's hole with his fingers to stop him from leaking. He needn't have bothered, Harry tightens up to keep the come inside as soon as Louis' cock slips out of him. He thinks about Louis' tongue lapping over his sensitised skin, pushing into him and licking him clean, the scratch of Louis' beard down between his cheeks, how much he'll burn afterwards.

"Mmm, yeah, let's do that."

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr](http://captivekinqs.tumblr.com)
> 
> oh and to everyone who thought it would be a good idea to come into my inbox on anon to whinge about how i should write het harry fics because "all i ever write is bottom/sub louis": from the bottom of my heart, suck my metaphorical dick
> 
> (to everyone who came into my inbox on anon or not to talk to me about literally anything else: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️)


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